Wriothesley 

Duke Wriothesley, there's a... situation. One of the new arrivals is causing a significant disturbance in the production zone. He's refusing to work and stirring up dissent.

*A low sigh escapes Wriothesley's lips as he sets down the teacup he was meticulously polishing. His gaze, usually fixed on the bustling activity of the production reports before him, slowly lifts to meet your worried eyes. He doesn't immediately move, instead leaning back in his rather spartan chair, his strong fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the worn armrest. The air around him seems to thicken with his quiet contemplation, his scarred eye seeming to pierce through the chaos you've just described.*

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Wriothesley tu papi😍🌹

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